The Silver Song
by Beautiful Allusion
Summary: He hears it every time, the silver song, tempting him back to more. First chapter from criminal p.o.v. Every scream another note in his symphony. Contains violence and brief description of suicide.


**Disclaimer: Any recognizable characters are property of the original creators, I make no profit and no copyright infringement is intended.**

**A Silver Song**

A silver song, that's what he called it. A high pitched ringing through the ears that only seemed to stop when somebody got in its way, or was put there, either way he didn't care. Bullets with silver casings wove the notes he so desperately sought through the nights more dull and obvious noises, and then they came to a sudden ruby stop embedded in the final bar of his song.

He knew what they called him. It flashed through the headlines of every paper from where he lived to the furthest corners of the city;_ misfit murderer kills another twenty five in meaningless shoot out. _Headlines similar depicting his various amounts of victims in his early days and his later ones, always a different amount of people in different circumstances so as not to have the police to catch on to his years of singing. Singing his silver song, beginning with three teenagers in a bar one night many years ago and ending only the night before in a mass shootout at a high school.

He had planned his greatest stage performance yet; set out to find a place big enough to give him the coverage he needed to escape and a place small enough that his silver song would ring throughout his ears. On a whim he had picked a high school, interrupting an open day of school fundraising and marketing that was just being packed up.

A group of girls had passed by him and then scattered quickly as two boys in torn clothing walked through the small crowd and headed for a stand of leftover cakes and drinks. He had marked them off his list of notes, police would obviously think they were involved and it was a perfect scapegoat; the girls would sing high notes and the other boys in the room would provide a good neutral harmony to his silver song.

It all began as planned; five girls singing out as backup to his song and a boy supplying the dying harmony clutching uselessly at one who had already died. Panicked shouts and screams pierced the night and as his seventh victim fell through the mass of running and weaving bodies words unwritten and unwanted in his silver song boomed through the atmosphere drowning out his notes.

"Drop the gun," came from the smaller of the boys he'd crossed out of his symphony, "police, drop you're weapon and put your hands behind your head; you're under arrest," the second larger of the two sang out, pointing yet another gun at his person.

He wanted to yell and scream at the boys that had decided to ruin his song, but remained silent so he didn't ruin it himself. He ducked behind the nearest object and began forcing the notes back into the air, hopelessly shooting at anything so he could hear the end of his silver song.

The police officers, who so blatantly defied the notes of the sheet music he'd made, dived and weaved in and out of harms way to make their approach to him. He tried to not make it easy, he shot the big one in the arm and the little one was clipped on the side of his leg but they eventually caught up to him and he was thrown to the ground, and the officers and their back up drowned out the last of his silver song. As he was hauled out of the building the red ruby of the bars had seeped into every visible patch of clothing and land. He would never hear the end of that beautiful silver song.

As medical personnel attended to the wounded, he sat and thought of his last silver song. The end would never be heard by the composer himself and the music never once played again. He smiled as he stood, gun gripped tight in his right hand even though it was fastened ruthlessly to his left behind his back. He was able to twist it into position and pull the trigger, and as he lay on his stomach on the ground with the faces of the two police officers staring back at his upturned features; medical people trying to save his life, he sang out the last and final note of his final silver song.

**A/N: Just a one shot I wrote, I know it doesn't mention any of the characters by name but it is about Doug and Tom just from the criminals' point of view. Please read and review, not my best, sorry but this is going to lead if I get any responses into a story about Tom and Doug, so yes if you want me to continue let me know.**


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